


Belonging

by CaineGreyson



Series: Something Old, Something New [6]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:04:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaineGreyson/pseuds/CaineGreyson
Summary: Credence and Newt have a lazy day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all again for the amazing responses on the last part and all those previous, and I hope you enjoy!

“Newt?”

Credence is lying amongst the many blankets of Newt’s bed, languid and loose-limbed. Newt, who is reclining across the bottom of the bed at Credence’s feet, opens his eyes. 

They’re still a little red-rimmed from earlier, near-forgotten tears and he’s wearing pyjama bottoms and an old Chudley Cannons jumper. 

Instead of getting dressed, he and Credence had instead chosen to have a lazy day- it is, in fact, their last day inside this case and on this boat. London approaches, and Newt feels as though he should make the most of this final opportunity for relaxation before the inevitable drama of his return to England.

He’s lying on his back, his hands clasped on his stomach. When he turns his head he sees that Credence is watching him curiously, and he smiles at the sight. The boy is thoroughly tangled in blankets, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His hair, grown longer now even in the week they’ve been travelling, is sticking up oddly at the back and he looks half-asleep. 

That is to say, he looks beautiful.

He is dragged away from this curious thought by the rustle of blankets and the stirring of the pale boy enveloped in them. 

He is glad of it- he isn’t quite sure what path that thought could lead down, and it’s something he’d like to explore without Credence present, thank you very much.

“I wanted to ask- You’ve been good to me, since we met. You protected me. You’re taking me to London with you, you’re going to teach me about magic… It’s wonderful, but- why?”

The question takes him aback, so much so that he almost topples off the bed, arms windmilling wildly through the air. 

A true Newt Scamander moment, he thinks, and tries to recover himself enough to put an answer together.

“Well… the very first time I saw you, I hardly noticed you. I’m not going to lie to you, not now, not ever- I was chasing down an unruly Niffler and didn’t really have the time to pay attention to anything else. But I do remember seeing you. 

“Funnily enough, I remember wondering if you were chilly standing out on those steps, handing out leaflets all day. I supposed you were one of the New Salemers- I found them quite funny in the beginning, absolutely harmless. Just scared Muggles, searching for a reason for what was obviously a very scary series of occurrences. 

“But the night I met you in the subway, I understood you. I knew that I had to save you- I couldn’t let you die, Credence, I simply couldn’t do it. There’s something about you that I couldn’t let go- I needed to protect you. And when I’d stopped MACUSA from hurting you, I couldn’t bear to think that they would take you away somewhere and lock you up, or do experiments, or use you for terrible things. You don’t deserve that. 

“So I apparated you away as quickly as I could back to the Goldstein’s, and, well… you know the rest.”

Credence was silent for a while, taking it all in. 

“Can you come here?”

It only takes a moment to roll over and crawl up the bed. He lies next to Credence, on his side. He can feel his heart pounding against his chest, thrumming with something strange and exciting and entirely new. 

The boy turns to face him and suddenly their faces are very close, and Credence has a tear at the corner of his eye that Newt desperately wants to wipe away. He does so. 

Credence smiles, and Newt's heart appears to dive into his stomach. Oh well. 

Newt has never particularly wanted to kiss anyone. All through his schooldays at Hogwarts and the years beyond, he’d wondered at this odd fixation his friends had with kissing- surely, he had wondered, pushing your mouth against somebody else’s can’t be all that exciting. 

But in this moment he feels like he needs to be closer to Credence, to show him how much he cares, the depth of his devotion to his comfort and safety and most of all, to his happiness.

His fingers graze Credence’s jaw and then move to trace his cheekbone. The boy’s eyes are wide, but not afraid. His own index finger trails across the line of Newt’s collarbone, dancing back and forth along it. 

Newt, who often feels the need to fill empty spaces with awkward conversation, is strangely comfortable in this silence. All there is is the sound of Credence’s soft breathing, so much more relaxed than he had expected. He imagines the thump of his heartbeat, but can only hear his own echoing in his ears. Credence’s eyes are searching his face but Newt finds no reason to look away.

It’s Credence who moves first, closing the gap between them with a soft breath and fluttering eyelashes.

The kiss is delicate, just a press of lips. As Credence pulls away, he searches Newt’s eyes for something. He finds himself hoping that he’ll find whatever it is he’s looking for, and he is gripped by a sudden fear that perhaps he won’t- perhaps the moment will be gone, and Credence with it.

So instead he cups the younger man’s jaw in his hand and kisses him softly, trying to tell him without words how much he cares, how much he needs him.

This kiss is not as much of a surprise. This kiss is rose petals, soft and blushing pink. It is warm candlelight flickering across their walls and casting shadows across the pages of their journals. It is a painting in bright, joyous tones, capturing a brief moment of ecstasy. 

This kiss is unity, a bond between new lovers, and Newt feels as though his heart will burst for joy.

 

***

 

“Welcome to England!”

Newt whirls around, his blue coat swirling around him dramatically. Credence is wide-eyed, gazing at every passerby. 

“Time for us to go, I’m afraid, we’re in a bit of a rush- I’d love to show you around properly, but we’re going to be late to our appointment!”

“Our appointment where?” Credence asks, with a look of slight trepidation in his eyes, but he follows Newt anyway and feels Pickett cling to his thumb inside his pocket. It’s a small comfort in this strange, busy place.

“You have to see a man about a wand!” Newt calls, his eyes bright with excitement, and happiness courses through Credence.

Their journey to London involves apparating to a pub, dingy and small from the outside, but warm and welcoming beyond the front door. Credence gets the feeling that not everybody takes notice of the place- people’s eyes seem to slide right over it, but when he asks Newt he just murmurs something about never remembering the bricks, so he poses no more questions and focuses on settling the queasy sensation in his stomach.

Inside, Newt is quickly dragged into a stilted conversation with a pretty young witch about Appaloosa Puffskeins, and Credence finds himself drifting off into his own thoughts. He is surprised when he feels Newt’s hand brush the back of his own, and he realises that he must have looked awfully rude. He wonders if Newt is annoyed, but when he looks, he’s smiling gently. 

The witch he’d been talking to glances between Credence and Newt, looking amused. 

“Who’s this one then? Bring back a new pet, Scamander?” She asks. Her tone is playful, but there’s something about it that Credence doesn’t like one bit. 

“Be quiet, Marcy- this is Credence Barebone, he’s a very dear friend of mine. He’s come to live in London with me.”

Marcy looks him up and down. Credence is painfully aware of his bony elbows and the bagginess of even skinny Newt’s jumper hanging off him. He looks at the floor. He knows looks like these, looks which try to reduce a person to their parts. 

It’s excruciating, and he feels suddenly as though he’s back under Ma’s gaze as they presented themselves for breakfast. The children would have to stand in a line, completely still, until Ma was sure that they had not sinned while she slept. Sometimes it could take an hour for her to decide. 

Other times, she would see their sins quickly, and Credence would be punished accordingly (she rarely punished the others with the belt, but Ma seemed certain that Credence’s sins were enough to warrant it). 

Newt seems to see Credence’s discomfort, and he quickly bridges the gap to tangle their fingers together. He steps closer until their sides are pressed together, a clear symbol of unity, and squeezes his hand gently.

“Well, I’m afraid we must be going. Lots to do, lots to see and all that!”

Newt is twitchy and nervous, his eyes already seeking out the exit at the back of the dim pub. It’s Credence’s turn to offer comfort in the form of a nudge of his elbow against his side- a reminder that he is present, and that they are in this together. 

When they finally manage to make their escape, Newt seems to recover somewhat. He regains some of the colour in his face, and his smile, which Credence had thought to be so ever-present, is barely making its reappearance.

“Have I ever told you that I hate the Leaky Cauldron? Far too many people for my liking.”

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the last few minutes and wraps his free arm around Credence’s shoulders, pulling him in for a warm half-embrace. It’s comfortable and most of all, it’s easy, and in the last few hours Credence has discovered that he adores this kind of affection- it is as though he has been starved for it all these years, and Newt seems to have an inexhaustible supply.

With his wand, Newt taps the bricks in a strangely specific pattern, muttering to himself- he seems to be counting, until his wand tip rests against a brick three up and two across from the rubbish bin. 

The wall rearranges itself rapidly, tearing itself apart and sliding away. An archway begins to form from the once-solid wall. 

It’s wonderful, and thoroughly magical, and Credence can’t help but to feel a sense of homecoming as Newt glances at him reassuringly, kisses his forehead, and they stride side by side into Diagon Alley.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy that! I certainly did!
> 
> Now I can write more kisses and cuddles and fluff! Who's excited??? Me!
> 
> Please tell me what you thought in the comments below, and if you really liked this part leave me some kudos. Also, do remember to bookmark the series as I usually update every two/three days.


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